Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is.
I don't own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it.
Much thanks to those of you who have given me feedback on this story, both Visitors and Members, and those of you who have favorited and followed this story.
Chapter 10: For Worse
Louisa lay down on the bed, tears beginning to pour from her eyes. What had she done?
Had she not been neat enough?
Had it been her weight?
Was it her dandruff?
No. Martin wasn't so shallow.
She knew the real culprit.
It was the way she treated him. Always haranguing him. Always insisting he change. Forcing him into uncomfortable situations.
And for what? He was a wonderful man, just as he was. A little rough around the edges, perhaps, but it was the whole parcel she loved: the lovely, the mediocre, and the ugly.
She suddenly noticed something on the bed.
It was photograph from James' christening. Her signature wide grin was displayed on her face, contrasting sharply with Martin's blank, almost cross demeanor. Putting the photo down she noticed other photographs and here and there a wedding certificate or a registration document strewn all across the bed.
Now she remembered.
There'd been another fight.
Bitter words exchanged once again.
Eventually, they'd both just stopped, weary of battering each other.
She'd gone upstairs, pulled out the shoebox labeled "Our Stuff" from under the bed, and fallen asleep, scanning tearfully through the pictures.
Her breathing had calmed by now, the frantic panic she'd been in, subsided. She was thinking clearly now.
She stood up resolutely and opened the closet door. All of his suits and shirts were there, neatly arranged, with a space between them and hers. She walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer.
His underwear was still there.
She raised an eyebrow. Odor-sensitive and germophobic Martin, of all people, wouldn't just leave on a trip without fresh sets of underwear, not to mention suits, to change into.
He couldn't have gone far.
Suddenly, her mother/school-teacher mode kicked in. She would find Martin, she'd embrace him, tell him how much she loved him, and that he was never to leave her again. Martin would surely accept her peace offering and she would bring him back home to his wife and son, where he belonged.
Louisa snatched up her phone, gently grabbed James Henry from his crib and placed him in his baby carrier. Lifting the heavy load, she walked downstairs as fast as she could.
She'd try the Crab first, then get ahold of Ruth. If worst came to worst, she'd roost Joe out of bed, and get him to help her search.
She'd suddenly pictured Joe and a party of policemen walking along the cliffs with flashlights, a Coast Guard helicopter illuminating the scene with a spotlight.
Utter rubbish, she thought, pushing the idea from her mind.
She took a deep breath, then opened the front door.
There on front step sat her husband.
"Oh, Martin," she called gently, kneeling down next him and embracing him tightly.
He didn't resists as she smothered him in kisses.
"I...I thought you'd left Martin!" she said. "I didn't know what I'd do without you."
"Don't be ridiculous Louisa. I...I couldn't leave you. We covered that at the Castle."
"Well, I had this dream." Martin looked shocked. He'd had a dream that she was going to leave him, not so far back. It'd changed his outlook on their marriage, made him realize he needed to get his priorities straight. Perhaps Louisa'd had a similar dream.
"You finally accepted that job in London, and left. I never saw you again. James would look at your picture and ask who you were and where you'd gone. I..." In the dream she'd told James he died, but she suddenly realized this sounded very melodramatic. She'd never say such a thing in real life.
"No, Louisa." He looked down at the ground, "For better or worse, I'm here to stay."
She stiffened up a little. "What do you mean, 'for better or worse'?"
"For better or worse, richer or poorer."
"I don't think you actually let the vicar say all that."
Martin smiled slightly "Well, Roger quizzed me about what it meant enough times."
He frowned. "Unfortunately, I think in your case its for worse."
What a terrible thing to say, Martin. She sat down on the step next to him, and placed a restless James in her lap, slowly rocking him back and forth.
"After our ragumentt about...umm...what happened in St. Minver earlier, I went upstairs earlier, to apologize, to beg your forgiveness, really. I saw the marriage certificate out on the bed."
"Oh Martin...you didn't think..."
"No. But it was a bit of a blow...I...I thought of what you said before you moved out after I scheduled the Christening without asking you.
"That was ages ago Martin!"
"Yes...well...you said this isn't the way things I supposed to be..."
She bowed her head quietly. It seemed like they'd come to that conclusion a hundred times. What was wrong with them?
"I searched my medical journals, in the online databases, even Ruth's book. Maybe there was some psychosomatic problem, some imbalance of chemicals in the brain. In the end there was only one possible answer: the problem was me. Who I am."
"But...Martin, you're a wonderful person. I love you." She put her hand on his back, gently rubbing it.
"Yes," he said, softly but awkwardly.
Her expression grew wan. "But you still feel you're not up to par."
"No."
She sighed. Looking down she noticed a book open in his hands.
"Another reference book?" she questioned, pointing.
His pale cheeks turned slightly pink.
"Umm...no"
He raised it higher so she could see.
She raised her eyebrows.
"You're really buying into that stuff Pastor Milligan said?"
"No," Martin said defensively. "Maybe. I'm not sure. I was pretty desperate."
Her expression softened. "Find anything?" she said curiously.
"Most of it just sounds like a bunch of religious clap-trap to me."He pointed at a line on the page. "But...ummm...this..."
Louisa read it out loud slowly.
"Where do you think all these appalling wars and quarrels come from? Do you think they just happen?
Think again.
They come about because you want your own way, and fight for it deep inside yourselves."*
"I'd hardly say we're at war Martin. I'm not about to haul an axe out of the shed and start hacking away."
"Good heavens, I hope not. But the cause is the same, isn't it? I want something, and it clashes with what you want or need. I don't consider why you want it, or if what I want is really worth hurting you."
"Miscommunication is hardly the result of selfishness," she remarked a bit doubtfully, beginning to feel Martin's words strike home. "It's just two different personalities clashing."
"I don't know about that." He swallowed. "It's not always...easy for me to say what I want, what I should. There are hidden...fears...fears that you'll be displeased, that you'll no longer...want me...if I tell you the truth, tell you my problems, tell you..." He looked in her eyes, "how very much you mean to me, Louisa."
She sat there looking at him, reading the volumes he left unsaid. In that moment, they no longer seemed eons apart. This was her Martin. She was his precious Louisa.
There were times she just didn't understand him, and likewise he sometimes thought her beyond logic. But, when push came to shove, they knew each other better than anyone else. In a way, she'd known all this that he'd just told her, knew he cared for her deeply, wanted to tell her, but couldn't, wouldn't.
"We all crave security, Martin. We need it. And you have more reasons than most to fear disappointment."
"Yes," he said in his typical, awkward way. "But I pursue that security at the expense of you...of my family."
She put her arms around him, drawing him to her.
"So do I Martin. It's such a vicious world out there at times. You can get by, try not to think about it, find a nice comfortable niche somewhere, not really exposing yourself to anyone too deeply. But I don't want to live that way. I want you."
They both winced as James Henry let up a shriek.
Slowly they unfurled themselves and helped each other up. Louisa muttered something about getting old.
"I think we should schedule another...umm...session," Martin said, warily as they scrambled sore and exhausted back into the house.
Louisa shot him a smile.
"Agreed."
*James 4:1-2 (The Message-[a paraphrase]), in case anyone's interested
Again, thanks for reading! I love the reviews you all have been leaving! Originally, this chapter was going to be included in Chapter 9, but because of your very enthusiastic responses, I figured I'd maintain the level of suspense at the end of Chapter 9 for future readers, and resolve the matter in a separate Chapter 10. I'll have more to the story soon...